~Jane~
If someone were to ask Jane why she has traveled to the Alliance recruiting office in the Human Embassies, she isn't sure she'd be able to give them a good answer. Even she was confused as to why she suddenly had the urge today to come here, but she knew that it came down to the draw to the office's MIA and KIA memorial.
When she first decided to get a hotel room so that Garrus wouldn't have to worry about her being in his apartment in case his mother showed up, she had worried slightly that she wouldn't be able to sleep. She had become accustomed to her plated bed partner and though she hated to admit, she had come to depend on the feeling of his presence while she drifted to sleep.
His contact seemed to help the nightmares from forming into those that woke her with screams and cries of pain.
Sure, she was going to have a few nights where her mind replayed the tragedy of losing so many people she felt responsible for, but it was more a look back at the experience and not her mind torturing her. Since her horrible night of imagining Garrus' face melting away, she didn't have those vivid nightmares of the things in her head recalling her current life.
She was relieved to find that for the past few nights spent alone in the hotel bed, her subconscious had decided not to take advantage.
Perhaps this meant that she was starting to get over the pain, the guilt, and the regret of what she went through on Akuze. Perhaps this is why her body feels drawn to the memorial of those the Alliance has ever lost.
The memorial for the soldiers is a simplistic one, meant to be able to offer a sense of piece to all those who lost someone who served. To anyone not familiar with it, it would seem like a simple vid screen with a sculpted System's Alliance insignia proudly stationed at its peak and a helmet sitting on a stand before it, but it means so much more.
The memorial's screen displays names of those lost or missing, either from war or during noncombat missions. The screen will slowly fade after a moment to display more soldiers, making sure to never leave a name unaccounted for, before looping back to the beginning.
For many soldiers, this is the only way that the Alliance can honor them. Not everyone, like many from Akuze, had been able to be recovered and returned to their families, but here, on this screen, they are remembered.
Shortly after her recovery from the Thresher Maw attacks Jane had tried to come here, to pay respects to her fellow soldiers but the moment the monument had come into focus in the distance she panicked. She admits that she never forgave herself for being such a coward, but knows that today is a chance to make up for her earlier weakness.
She approaches the memorial with full assurance that this is what brought her here. This need to finally acknowledge the loss, but to except that there is no changing the past. Her friends are lost, but that doesn't mean that she shouldn't live.
Coming close enough to be able to read the words on the screen, she starts to scan through the names, desperately searching for any names she can remember.
Scanning through, she finds some of her fellow soldiers and when her mind matches the face to the name, her earlier fears of such a connection bringing images of their deaths are proved wrong. Instead of hearing each of their screams of agony or seeing the images of their mangled corpses, Jane is flooded with good memories with each she can find.
Reading Reynolds' name reminds her that he had once told everyone he liked to write programs for simple games on his Omni-Tool. One night he had even shared his programs with some of the others and the whole night had been spent trying to beat each other's scores in his simulated racing game.
Toombs' name reminds her of the man who could always be found chewing gum when no superior was looking. As soon as an officer turned their back, Toombs would be gnawing away at another piece after just being forced to spit one out. Looking back, Jane thinks it was more the action of moving his jaw then the actual taste because he was rumored to have kept a single piece from wake-up call until lights-out, and it defiantly must have tasted like rubber by then.
She finds another, S. Almanza, and she remembers the young woman who had a tendency to mumble dessert recipes to herself when she performed mindless tasks like cleaning her gun, making her bunk, or prepping her armor, but became embarrassed if anyone ever pointed it out.
She continues to read through the names, finding her departed squadmates and reminiscing over little facts that she's surprised to have remembered but one name in particular still remains to be found and as the screens fade to more individuals, her heart beats faster in anticipation.
Suddenly her eyes fall on his name, M. Jameson, and the entire Citadel falls away in the distance, her mind focused on nothing else but those tiny letters on a holographic screen.
Her mind floods with memories of the big oaf, clumsy and shy that he almost seemed to be imaginary. He was smart enough to have made it in school and he had remarked that his family certainly didn't hurt for money for it. That and the thought that he was the exact opposite of every other marine she had ever met, including herself.
Though he looked big and strong, ready to take out enemy forces without a second thought, he was against unnecessary violence and usually wanted to have postings that would have him helping people. He would gladly take a job as a relief soldier that tended to aiding colonists than being in the front lines, even if he never rose in ranks.
To him, becoming a soldier had meant doing good for those in need and not being the best killing machine. Jane had never understood how the two could be different in his eyes if they accomplished the same thing, but she never disagreed with his determination in his own ways.
Seeing Jameson's name upon the board brings a sad smile to Jane's lips. It's bittersweet to see him here, nothing more to people than a name on a board, but he is remembered, acknowledged for the hero that he was.
She raises her hand up to his name, her fingers passes through the projected letters with a soft static. "I'm sorry it took me so long to come see every one of your names," she softly addresses all her lost friends. "It wasn't anything against any of you, just my own stupidity and fear…I was afraid to move on, I guess."
She pulls her hand back as the screen fades. "It was an honor to serve with each of you, both under some on your commands and above the others. You were more than my friends, many of you were my family." Jane pauses, trying to find the words to explain to herself and the names on the wall.
The physiatrist so long ago had told her that there was a final step that she hadn't taken and that because of it, she could not move forward. She had ignored every word beyond the basics to get her back on duty out of arrogant belief that no one could read her mind better than herself. She believed she was over Akuze as soon as her wounds had healed and anything else said was just a load of bull.
Looking at herself now, she now realizes that to be able to live her life as it was now, to move on to make new relationships with squadmates or people outside of the military, she needs to allow her emotional wounds to heal.
To do that, she must listen what her nightmares have been trying to tell her all along, through their own disjointed and horrific way. None more horrific than that of the dying form of the most important person in her life, Garrus.
With his dying breath, his mangled and bleeding face in her arms, he had told her that she 'had to let go' and it may only be because of him, both in her dream and in reality, that she feels she can finally do that.
Taking a deep breath, Jane raises her chin proudly and looks into the screen of soldier's names. "I will always remember each and every one of you. Though I may still have nightmares of that day, I will never again waste my chance at life by feeling guilty for surviving. I will not dishonor your sacrifices crying about what could have been and debating what ifs."
She moves her hand to her pocket, pulling out a single coin from Earth. Outside of Earth, the money doesn't mean much in ways of purchasing something, but she doesn't want the silver coin for money. Instead, she strokes her thumb across its surface and continues, "My old Instructor from boot camp once told me of an old tradition in Earth's military. Since I can't really go to each of your graves and I don't even know where, and if, all of you have your boxes buried, I'll leave this here."
She crouches down and lays the coin at the base of the memorial beside various flower arrangements and other tokens of respect and remembrance, before returning to her stand. She salutes the memorial, hoping that, despite her doubts, there is a place where her lost friends are looking down.